


You're As Cute as 3.142

by phanetixs



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, High School AU, M/M, also if you don't like math puns avoid this, slight anxiety mention, so much sexual tension oh my god, there's smut if you squint, tw: math
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 08:11:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7040341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phanetixs/pseuds/phanetixs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Dan, sweet sweet Dan. All the girls in our class are mad about Phil Lester with his blue eyes and cheekbones and what is he doing about it? Dan, all he’s doing is staring at you,” Louise raises an eyebrow whilst saying this and Dan’s mind becomes increasingly fuzzy in connecting the dots.</p><p>or, the story of Dan & Phil, Math rivals, who are secretly into each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're As Cute as 3.142

**Author's Note:**

> It feels so good to be posting this after continuously writing for two days. It'll also be a relief to stop thinking about Math for the time being, tbh.
> 
> My eternal gratitude to Vicky (parentaladvisorybullshitcontent #spon) for reading this fic whilst dyeing her hair but still managing to give me such great advice. You're wonderful!
> 
> Okay, here it goes.

 

Dan doesn’t think that he’s a competitive person. Maybe he was before he was 10 or something, but the whole competitive streak went out the window the moment his little brother was born. Thus began the days of “Daaaaaaan, go slower” whines during Mario Kart races and “Hand over the candy Danny, or Mom will hear about your date with Sammy next week” threats in his kid brother’s annoying sing-song voice.

So, yes, Dan has always thought that brotherhood must’ve mellowed him or something, sucked his competitive soul out of him the moment his tiny, whiny brother was born, until, well, until Secretly-Northern-Phil-Asshole-Lester arrived.

(Dan can’t think of a better name, so bear with him.)

“It’s 1.987!” Dan shouts loudly, although sat in front of the classroom. He feels his Maths teacher wince slightly, back still turned to the whiteboard, having just finished writing the question about pi. 

“No, sir, it’s 2.8766.” Phil counters, glaring at Dan slightly from his spot. He practically _feels_ the eyerolls from his classmates.

“Sir, he didn’t divide it by two and add that 6 pi. If he did, he would’ve obviously gotten the same answer as me,” Dan smirks and Phil stares at his math working a little, biting his lip as worry lines appear slightly on his forehead.  

 _Hah take that and your pretty little face,_ Dan thinks, and realises that _pretty_ is becoming a worryingly recurring adjective when thinking about Phil-asshole-Lester. Dan shakes his head a little.

Mr Michael “Math” Mitchell turns to face the both of them, shooting Phil an unreadable look.

“Phil, Dan is right, sorry.” The sympathetic tone Mr Mitchell has on annoys Dan immensely. _He deserves that wrong answer. Why is Mr Mitchell apologising to him?_

And Phil, true to his Northern upbringing, says, “Nah, it’s fine Mr Mitchell, you’re an _ace_ teacher by the way.” And the teacher actually blushes slightly. 

Phil’s sucking up capabilities are actually not bad, Dan surmises angrily. He makes a mental note to bring his Mom’s red velvet cookies to school the next time she makes them, because Dan’s pent-up competitiveness is only beginning to come to _head._

 

* * *

 

Phil had been nice when he first moved to Kent Preparatory School. In fact, Dan ventures to say that he had been the nicest new boy Dan’d ever met. His Northern twang made it slightly harder for the class to understand him but the bright smile he had on throughout the day earned him an impressive amount of friends by lunch break.

And at one point, Dan would’ve been considered one friend, too. 

That was until Geography two weeks later when Phil managed to get a 100 on the quiz they endured, and Dan had to settle for a 99 ( _How does he know where Malawi is anyway? I bet he cheated or something, that twat_ ) that Dan finally understood the phrase, ‘There is no love in peace and in war’ (he doesn’t actually remember the quote but that’s not important at a time like this).

It is most assuredly war.

(It’s not like Phil wasn’t nice when he aced that Geography test. In fact, he’d been very nice about it, congratulating him on his result and flashing that bright grin and blue eyes that had become the talk of the school over the weeks he’d been here. Dan had also almost agreed to a study session at his house, but quickly shook himself, the invitation most definitely part of Phil’s dubious plot to bring him down or something. Besides, Dan concludes, Phil can _never_ be nice to Dan, without a hidden intention. 

And the smugness in his congratulations was implied, _obviously_.)

 

* * *

 

“No, Louise, you don’t understand,” Dan tries to say, “I’m always the first in our class, _always,_ even when that Chris guy got his IQ tested and suddenly got compared to Einstein, I’d still beaten him at the History test we had by a _whole_ two points!” 

“Wow, you’re so _humble,_ Dan. I hope the fame never gets to your head,” Louise jokes, taking a scoop out of the strawberry yoghurt she’d been having for lunch. She told him once that the yoghurt was quickly becoming her coping mechanism, having been subjected to Dan’s long rants about Phil Lester all through lunch for a good _six_ months.

“He’s just so,” Dan struggles to find the word, something to encompass the sheer jealousy and hatred he has for the black-haired boy (who’d been ginger once, judging from his weird eyebrows. Nope, not attractive at all). He raises both his hands, vaguely gesturing at the boy sitting two tables opposite them.

“Dreamy, those blue eyes, man, I could go swimming in those,” Louise continues for him, eyes glazed over and ogling slightly the pale skin of Phil’s forearms appearing from under the folded sleeves of his plaid shirt.

Dan finds himself nodding along, also worryingly transfixed on the white skin and Phil’s tongue poking out at the joke his friend, PJ Liguori, had made.  

Dan is horrified when he finds Phil catching his eye, smirking at the two people shamelessly staring  from across the canteen. He shakes his head vehemently and elbows Louise ( _Dan, ouch that was my boob)_ to direct her (their) attention back to his problems.

“You secretly like Phil Lester, don’t you?” Louise asks teasingly, eyebrow raised to provoke a reaction.

“God, Louise, have you not been listening to my long, annoying soliloquies about how much I hate Philip Michael Lester?” 

“You even know his middle name, should I expect wedding bells soon?” Louise says simply, grinning and stifling laughter at Dan’s horrified expression.

“You suck.” Dan punctuates the statement with an intentional elbow to Louise’s right boob. 

And that was the end of any Phil-Lester-crush talk.

* * *

 

“Dan?”

Dan audibly groans at the voice, knowing immediately who it was and that he didn’t like their company in the slightest.

He’d been having a completely mundane morning, pouring over notes about Hamlet whilst managing to listen to the entirety of Kanye’s Yeezus over cups of coffee at their local Starbucks. Why and well, _why the heck_ , Phil Lester was there at the exact same time as Dan, holding the exact same reading material is beyond him, honestly.

“Hi.”

There is a pause.

“Okay, bye, thanks for the nice chat,” Dan says promptly, popping the earbuds back in and still managing to catch part of the rap in _I Am God._

(Appropriate song for the situation, Dan thinks).

But, of course, the universe always manages to fuck up Dan’s plans in some sort of way, on several different occasions, that Dan isn’t remotely surprised when Phil occupies the seat in front of him. He sets his books and caramel macchiato down before staring at Dan a little.

“Um. What exactly are you doing?”

“Reading? Before you say anything else, there’s nowhere on this seat that specifically says ‘For Dan Howell’s perky buttcheeks only’- Dan actually scoffs at that, hopefully masking the flush in his cheeks - “so I assume this place as mine.” Phil’s voice doesn’t waver once and Dan’s sort of intrigued. He hadn’t expected the level of sass from the other boy. _As mentioned before, Phil Lester, 100 percent ASs._

Then for some reason, Dan has nothing to say except a mild, “Okay.” that his stupid brain supplies him with. His brain always has had a problem with functioning around Phil Lester so again, Dan isn’t really surprised with how the conversation is going.

Except there is virtually no conversation after that.

They both go back to devouring Shakespeare, each of them on separate parts of the play but enjoying the drama all the same. Dan can’t shake the feeling like he’s walking on eggshells a little. Which he shouldn't because Phil Lester deserves no part in his anxiety-ridden mind and awkwardness but he thinks, maybe Phil has _everything_ to do with it. He refuses to think of reasons why exactly Phil Lester might make him nervous and is momentarily distracted by a slight jolt of the table.

He regains focus and realises that Phil has… left? Well, not permanently, judging from the books still strewn on the table but Dan’s anxiety is suddenly kicking into full gear and he feels really really shitty all of a sudden.

The emotion doesn’t last long, though and before Dan knows it, Phil is back, with two cookies in his right hand and another cup of caramel macchiato in his left. 

Dan raises an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you didn’t drop all of that,” he comments with a smirk. “Was it not you who literally fell in front of Mr Mitchell before third period last week,” he grins, recounting the incident that left him reeling with laughter.

“My shoelaces were untied, you little-“ he can hear the implied _bastard_ at the end of the sentence. Dan laughs again.

“No, it wasn’t criticism, I’m actually impressed,” Dan drawls out and smiles at the flushed cheeks Phil dons. 

“Okay, as my sign of gratitude, here have this cookie,” Phil says, offering out a delicious-looking chocolate chip cookie. Dan almost reaches out to meet the cookie in Phil’s hands but he stops himself short.

He narrows his eyes.

“What do you want from me? My secrets, my studying tips-“

It’s Phil who narrows his eyes at that. “What do you mean? This is just a cookie, Dan, no hidden intentions, I promise.” And then Phil’s eyes are twinkling and the sincerity in his tone becomes overwhelming that Dan thinks that maybe this feud _is_ petty after all.

“Thanks,” Dan mumbles, reaching out for the pastry.

 And Dan isn’t even embarrassed when he finishes devouring the cookie well before Phil says, “You’re welcome.”

 

* * *

 

“The answer is 13, sir,” Dan answers triumphantly the moment Mr Mitchell places the blue marker onto the table. 

 "Lester, any arguments?”

Dan notices that eventhough Phil had finished a while ago, he’d kept strangely quiet. Dan peeks at his paper, on full view to the right of his desk. _He got 13, too? Why hadn’t he said anything?_

Phil catches Dan staring and smiles brightly. 

“No sir, Dan’s completely right, as usual.”

 

* * *

 

“Okay, let me get this straight, you hated him when he _did_ challenge your Math prowess, but now you hate him even more that he’s not,” Louise sighs out, indulging in her second small tub of yoghurt. Dan’d bought her extras the day before to prepare her for the _odd_ shift in his feelings towards Phil Lester. 

“Louise, it’s not that, he’s being _nice_ to me for some reason,” Dan says lifting his head, only to find the boy in question already looking at him intently. _Ugh, go away, Phil._

He _is_  being unnecessarily nice to Dan, that twat. For starters, he’d started frequently bumping into Dan (accidentally, he claims) at the coffee shop. Then, he had had the audacity to buy Dan more cookies and brownies during their study sessions (broad use of the phrase, all they do is eat tbh). And, just recently, Phil’s been actually engaging in conversation with him and they realise, to Dan’s horror, that they have plenty in common. 

(And Dan only converses with Phil because he _has_ to, don’t get any ideas.)

“Say, Dan, have you ever seen him hang out with a girl?” Louise asks him suddenly, breaking him out of his thoughts. He eyes her warily.

“Yeah, that girl, Sophie?”

“Anyone who’s not PJ Liguori’s girlfriend-of-the-month?”

Dan ponders this and tentatively shakes his head. “I don’t think so. Why are you asking me this?”

Louise smirks and clucks her tongue. She snaps her fingers and suddenly, her whole demeanour resembles a Fairy Godmother, here to vanquish all his problems and solve his misery.

“Dan, sweet sweet Dan. All the girls in our class are mad about Phil Lester with his blue eyes and cheekbones and what is he doing about it? Dan, all he’s doing is staring at you,” she raises an eyebrow whilst saying this and Dan’s mind becomes increasingly fuzzy in connecting the dots.

“Yeah, so?”

“He literally fancies you, you dingbat.”

_No. Oh god no._

He manages to croak out a hopefully indignant “No, don’t be silly, Lou” before reaching out and finishing the half-tub of yoghurt himself.

 

* * *

 

Crushes are annoying, Dan decides. Especially when you’re on the receiving end of it. For weeks, Dan’d decided to ignore Louise’s revelation, to put the very idea of Phil Lester having sexual and romantic attractions to him at the very back of his head ( _in his occiput, his brain supplies and he’s grateful for a fleeting moment that he aces Biology)._

So, yes, it’s in his occiput, safely and assuredly away from any hormones in the vicinity and he doesn’t really think about it.

That is until they’re both at Chris Kendall’s party and Dan manages to catch Phil’s eye within the first 5 minutes of him stepping foot into the house. Dan groans softly and wishes that he didn’t have to see Phil today, not after the slightly raunchy dream he’d had of the two of them in a sauna together. 

(In Dan’s defence, sleep makes his brain involuntarily shut down or something and any thoughts about Phil Lester are free to travel from the _damn_ occiput into his dream receptors or whatever.

Besides, no mental pictures of the Queen sans clothes were able to ward off the raging boner he’d woken up to. 

So, he _couldn’t_ stop the dreams even if he tried.)

And somehow, Phil looks infuriatingly attractive, in a blue button down and figure-hugging jeans that made his thighs look shapely and his hair was styled perf-

“I feel like we’ve been spending too much time just looking at each other,” Phil whispers in his ear after suddenly appearing behind him. Dan can feel the heat radiating off Phil’s body and he doesn’t know if he wants to slap or make out with Phil Lester. It becomes increasingly worrying that both circumstances bear sexual insinuations in his head and Dan just doesn’t need _that_ tonight. 

He distractedly leans into Phil’s chest and feels Phil’s torso and hand, now on his waist, go rigid for a moment. 

Dan suddenly is jolted into reality and backs away from Phil tentatively. “Yeah, I’m just going to go, yeah.” And Dan’s nodding to himself and wanders out of the room to find Louise and get the hell out of here.

(He doesn’t, though. Because when he finds Louise, she’s snogging Harry from History and he thinks that any interruption now would earn him a tight slap on his cheek. Harry’s hands are inching up Louise’s skirt and Dan knows for sure that they will not be leaving any time soon.

 _Also, ew, get a room._ )

After having some chats (and shots) with some very drunk friends and pointedly avoiding Phil, he suddenly is pulled into a ‘Spin the Bottle’ game in the middle of Chris’ living room. Dan can’t find Louise anywhere and all the exits are blocked with some couple making out so, Dan’s essentially _trapped_ into playing along.

He spies Phil at the corner, smirking at him a little and Dan feels a familiar bloom of anxiety in his stomach. Everything is more dangerous when Phil’s involved, Dan decides, but he still smirks back, muscles twitching upwards involuntarily.

If Dan is anything, he is rational (maybe slightly impulsive but _still_ ) and his alcohol-addled mind uses the Laws of Probability to pick his seat around the circle.

He estimates the best seating place to be 2 seats to Phil’s left, judging from the number of people in the game and the slight dip in the base of the beer bottle, to avoid a snog with with the black-haired boy.

(Maybe, just maybe, because it’s late and Dan’s tipsy and horny, that he ends up sitting directly to Phil’s left, increasing his chances to 44 percent, but no one needs to know that except him.

Part of Dan’s mind is horrified beyond belief but Dan _wholly_ blames his occiput for this.)

 

* * *

 

It’s the last spin, and the universe, as usual, fucks with Dan right when he thinks he’d be alright. The bottle is spun by Chris, who devilishly dares the last couple to make out in his cupboard for 3 minutes and no one can object because, well “ _It’s my fucking house.”_  

It lands on Dan first.

And Dan’s heart is immediately in his throat. He feels his palms go slightly clammy and he licks his lips nervously because three minutes is a _long_ time, especially with someone he doesn’t know. _Am I just supposed to kiss that person? What if they have STDs or something?_

Unfortunately, he doesn’t voice any of these questions aloud, and worse yet, the second spin had landed on the one and only, Philip fucking Lester. 

_Fantastic._

He thinks that this is the most cliché thing to have ever happened to him but he thinks of the previous events of the night and that a snog with Phil might be exactly what he needs to get him out of his system or something.

He doesn’t have time to continue a mental pro and con list before being (forcefully) ushered to the small, dingy cupboard at the corner of what he hopes is Chris' bedroom, and having the door locked on the both of them.

Their bodies are pushed together, a consequence of two 6-feet boys trying to fit into a Dudley House-esque cupboard. It’s uncomfortable, to say the least, and it’s _hella_ awkward but then Dan is looking into Phil’s eyes, now dark with what Dan thinks is _lust,_ and suddenly, Phil’s lips are on his in a second and nothing seems to matter anymore.

As it turns out, Phil kisses exactly how he is in real life. Gentle but _insanely_ competitive. Dan can’t reconcile the fact that Phil, _sweet_ Phil, who greets Kathy at the coffee shop before sitting with Dan, who assures Mr Mitchell that his marriage will be okay and that he really should stop crying when he sees Math problems involving trigonometry _cos_ his wife was really _tan_ , is the same Phil who is practically shoving Dan against the wall of the cupboard and recapturing his lips in a filthy snog.

And the weird thing is, Dan’s reciprocating, and enthusiastically, judging from the tent in his pants. 

Oh, but _of course_ , with Dan being rational and all, he desperately tries to conjure reasons to back this up _._ His mind reels with significant mental calculations (obviously taking far longer than usual with the presence of Phil’s lips on his neck), and he notes that 180 seconds is _not_ long when you factor in breaks to inhale and nailing the right angle, so Dan’s surely allowed to enjoy this.

(Or maybe Dan just wants to have some fun, that’s all. And Phil’s a bloody good kisser, and Dan’s been dreaming about this day for the past week and he’s frankly relieved above everything else)

So, when Phil reaches for the zipper on Dan’s jeans and he’s whispering _“God, you’re so hot,”_ wetly into Dan’s left ear, Dan feels no part of his mind protesting at all. It’s like all the conflicting voices were shut up at the feel of Phil’s palm roaming the front of his jeans.

Right when they are about to get to the good stuff does Chris knock on the door loudly and proclaim, “Alright, nerds, time’s up.

They stumble out of the cupboard before Dan can even check if his fly is done.

Dan catches Phil’s eye and notices the slight flush in his cheeks and tents in both their pants and they must look positively wrecked to receive wolf-whistles from their friends, who are all so drunk that they don’t even remember their own names.

And that was that.

 

* * *

 

If Dan thinks that the three minutes with Phil in the small cupboard would clear up any sort of _feelings_ he has for Phil, he’s dead wrong.

(And it wasn’t _just_ three minutes. They’d secretly stumbled into Chris' bedroom again and made out against the door for close to forty-five more. The extra time made everything worse, evidently.)

Dan is just Very Confused and Sexually Frustrated. He doesn’t know what he feels for Phil, but it’s quickly blossoming into something that’s far from hatred and jealousy, which is worrying to him because Dan (although he’d really not like to admit) thinks it’s affection that’s blooming in his chest.

Physically, nothing changes, though. They still are snarky to each other (but any sort of comment has lost it’s bite, Dan realises) and he still complains to Louise about Phil edging him in Geography and English (that is when Louise isn’t hanging out with that Harry guy and sucking his face off), and it’s all _infuriatingly_ the same.

Mentally, Dan’s a puppy on crack whenever Phil’s around. It gets harder and harder to attend classes he shares with Phil because _all_ he wants to do is talk to him but all he ends up doing is imagining Phil kneeling between his legs in the janitors' closet. And whenever they brush hands to pass each other their shared cookie or caramel macchiato, Dan feels like melting into a pile of mush.

But Dan’s convinced that they’re just bros who went to third-base once and that he’s just a hormonal teenage boy with well, hormones, and that all these feelings don’t mean anything at the end of the day.

But it hits Dan during English a week later, when Phil innocently smiles at him and Dan fantasises Phil grinning against his lips when he says something funny and the same grin wrapped around Dan’s dick afterwards, that maybe, just maybe, it’s not _so_ platonic after all.

 

* * *

 

It all unravels a few weeks later because in a surprising turn of events, the universe actually looks out for Dan Howell sometimes.

“Guess what a little birdie told me,” Dan hears Louise say (practically squeal, if he’s being honest) excitedly as she takes the spot opposite him at the canteen table. _No yoghurt in sight, Dan notes._

“Mr Smith has fallen into the dark abyss of life and that we won’t be having History for a month?” Dan jokes because he _really_ can’t think of anything else. His sarcasm levels have taken a big blow from not having the heart to tease Phil for the past month.

“No, it’s about yooooou,” Louise says, drawing out the word like she does when she’s extremely excited and wants Dan to be too.

“Oh, Louise, what did I do now? Set fire to the chemistry lab, be compared to Hawking with my brilliant Physics theorems?” Dan feigns a yawn, showing disinterest.

“No, doofus, it’s about you and Phil,” Louise scoffs, obviously irritated with Dan’s indifference to her news. He perks up when he hears about Phil, though, because he’s accepted the fact that he maybe, _probably_ , has a lowkey crush on Philip Lester.

Dan doesn’t say anything so Louise takes that as confirmation to tell him all about it.

“So, I heard from Eloise who heard from James, her second cousin who she’s shagging by the way, and Mikey, her stepbrother and _total_ ass, told her parents and they were all like-“

He clears his throat.

“Right, sorry, so Phil was apparently showing his friend or someone pictures on his phone and he left for a little while and so they did the obvious thing, which is to snoop around, duh.”

“Duh,” Dan monotones, just to be polite.

“And like someone literally found pictures of you on his camera roll, like mostly you in the coffee shop, studying, but yeah, all of you,” Louise hits his arm excitedly at that and she’s practically bouncing off her heels.

Dan is left speechless.

He thinks back to their study dates at the coffee shop and how he would sometimes catch Phil aiming the camera at him and how he’d just shrug it off when Dan asked him about it. He thinks of all the times Phil had made him laugh over the weeks they’d been hanging out and how Phil’s staring stopped feeling creepy and perverted and became reassuring, instead, like he was _always_ looking out for Dan.

“Phil Lester actually  _likes_ you, oh my god, Danny, I was right.”

And just like that, Dan _finally finally_ understands it all and the dam breaks, slowly, then, all at once.

 

* * *

 

So, when Dan catches Phil eye during Media Studies, he mouths, “Coffee shop on Saturday?” and he gets a quick nod in response.

 

* * *

 

Dan is there 10 minutes early, equipped with a caramel macchiato and a white and black cookie this time because he knows that it’s his favourite. Dan belatedly realises that he knows a lot more about Phil that he previously thought.

Phil strides in not 5 minutes later, slightly surprised to see Dan on his feet (minus the earphones, for once) and offering a coffee and cookie to him. He smiles a crinkly smile, something Dan’s seen many times over the course of knowing him, but this one, specifically, makes the butterflies in his stomach go crazy. 

Also, Dan feels like puking but that’s not usually deemed _appropriate_ when trying to court the boy of your dreams so, Dan takes a deep breath instead.

“How long have you liked me for?” Dan says in one go, startling Phil into silence. They orbit around each other carefully and Phil has this expression that Dan can’t really read (This bothers Dan immensely and once he finishes this, he’ll definitely ponder his A+ in Psychology). 

“Dan?”

“Your crush? On me? How long?” Dan asks again, wincing when it comes out harsher than expected.

“Since we first hung out here. Maybe longer,” Phil says slowly, words hesitantly rolling off his tongue and all Dan wants to do is wrap him in a hug. _All in due time._

Phil rambles on, “I’m sorry, I started coming here because I thought you were really cute, I mean you are, and you're so smart like unbelievably so that I just, I don't know why I thought I had a shot with you and I'm sorry you had to find out this way, I'll apologise to Louise, your girlfriend, later-“

Dan's _majorly_ horrified with the thought of him and Louise as a couple so, he silences Phil with a chaste kiss, sucking on his bottom lip a little. He pulls back and smiles at Phil’s dazed expression.

"Louise is not my girlfriend, god, I can't even," Dan laughs out and gently caresses Phil's cheek because now that he can, he can't see a reason why he shouldn't. _Simple logic, really._

“I think I’ve maybe liked you since the first day I laid eyes on you and all that arguing and fighting was me just trying to get your attention, and after a while, I stopped minding that you kept beating me at Chemistry and, yeah, _only_ Chemistry, sorry Phil’s ego,” Dan says quickly and Phil grins and laughs through it. 

“I guess what I’m trying to say is, I like you Phil, so much.”

Dan’s never been more relieved to say anything in his life, honestly. And then Phil’s hands are tangled in his brown locks and his hands are on Dan’s waist and words are lost between them for a while.

So, before you ask, Dan’s just really happy, there’s all there is to it.

 

* * *

 

“Howell, Lester, I’m so glad you guys are finally bumming it out but please, for one moment, get your tongues out of each others’ mouths and answer this question.”

 

**FIN**

**Author's Note:**

> hmu at my Tumblr (@phanetixs) or Twitter (@yeukalyptus) or kudos/comment if you liked it!
> 
> Hope you all have a nice day!


End file.
